FURIOUS FICTION
Accidents, Firemen and Life or Death – June 2019 Furious Fiction – Enjoy!
SIRENS
Sirens grew louder as fire fighters arrived on the accident scene.
I watched through foggy eyes, as the bright red fire engine pulled up next to my car.
The pain was rippling through my legs, chest and head, as I tried to shift underneath the mangled car parts that were shoved up against my body.
My lips were dry and cracked as I attempted to yell out for help. No noise escaped and I tried a soft word, then a whisper; anything.
The smoke was starting to thicken and I squinted, trying to find a face in the smog.
A man with a short, black beard, about thirty, poked his head through the cloud and looked up and down the state of my body.
“Hi, my name is Steven, what’s yours?”
I tried to utter words, but breathing was difficult enough. “Samantha,” I finally managed to whisper.
Steven nodded and looked back at the mangled mess in front of me, turning to yell something behind him as horns honked with traffic now at a screeching halt. I tried to look behind me at the van, which had slammed into my car, and the car in front of me.
“Hey now, stay steady,” Steven said, guiding my head gently back into place. I glanced down at my legs, now hidden by the crushing metal. Steven put a neck brace on me and smiled, “You’re looking a little red in the jowls, Samantha.”
I frowned and he chuckled.
“I have word of the day toilet paper,” he said, pointing to my face. “Your cheeks are looking red.”
I took in a sharp breath as the buzzing of tools shook my car. Steven disappeared and I felt my breathing getting shallow, as my eyes frantically scanned the seat next to me. My son’s Iron Man lunchbox sat on the floor where he had left it this morning.
Steven returned and smiled, “We’ve almost separated the two cars Samantha, just hold on.” He looked across me, the quickly checked the back seat as he saw the lunchbox.
“He’s at school. My son forgot his lunch,” I said quietly. Steven frowned then nodded, disappearing into the haze once again. I felt myself fading, until a sharp grip on my arm pulled me back into reality. Steven was yelling at me, but I couldn’t hear him anymore.
The world was slowly slipping away when light flooded the car. The contorted metal was being pulled away from my legs, and I took in a deep breath of air, as the pressure on my chest was released. The pain was unbearable and I yelled out, as other fire fighters surrounded my now exposed driver’s seat. They slid me onto a thin board and I held my breath as they lifted me into the air, and onto a stretcher.
The world was starting to fade again as I saw Steven’s face, as he spoke in a distant voice next to me.
“You’re going to be ok Samantha.”
Thanks for reading this Furious Fiction from September 2019 by Christy Grace
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